Page 3 of Risky Desires

My stomach rumbled, and I fought off a grimace. I’d finished the last can of tuna that morning. It hurt the longer I went without food.

Hours passed and the alley door never opened, no matter how much I prayed. I gave up after a while, leaning against the dumpster. Several clubs dotted along the road keeping the foot traffic heavy no matter the time of day. I could only escape the hunger pain through sleep or distraction and I wasn’t tired yet, so I watched the various clubbers walk by instead.

I sat up when I saw Viktor again. He was on the phone outside the club, scowling at the crowd. He moved closer to the opening of the alley, his growl low as he spoke. Too low for me to catch what he was saying. I shifted to the balls of my feet, working up the nerve to approach him, but his snarl made me pause.

“That wasn’t the deal.” His profile to me, he glared in the club's direction. “No. I’m not interested. Stop calling me.”

He hung up, and I held my breath, willing him to notice me. He didn’t, instead reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket to put away his phone. He missed, and it clattered to the ground. His exasperated look would have been comical if he didn’t look so pissed off about it. He leaned over, picking up the phone, and strode off with a growl. There went my opportunity to talk to him.

Shutting my eyes, I banged my head lightly against the side of the dumpster a few times. Coward. Coward. Coward.

The door to the alley opened, and I jerked upright, looking over my shoulder. Tiffany came out hauling two bags of trash, grumbling under her breath as she dragged them along. She only stopped when she noticed me sitting by the dumpster.

“Seriously? You’re still here? I told you already, I can’t help you anymore.”

I shook my head helplessly. “I’m not–”

She made an irritated noise, dropping the bags in front of me. “There are places that are more cut out for this shit. I’m not rich, I can’t keep feeding you. Just go, Rosie.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve her ire. She was so kind when we first met. It was a lot like now. I’d taken a rest in the alley when I noticed her struggling with a particularly large bag of garbage. I helped her toss it away and in thanks, she offered me a drink. I refused, alcohol on an empty stomach was a bad idea, and when the rumbling noise from my gut caught her attention, she brought out some food instead. Nothing fancy, the club wasn’t really a place to eat, but she didn’t hold back on portions. She brought out a pint glass of olives, cherries, and orange slices. Anything that might top off a drink she brought for me to eat. And when I showed up the next night, she had a sandwich and a little baggy of chips waiting for me. She was my savior, and I struggled to understand why she was so angry now.

She continued to berate me, standing over me with her hands on her hips. My gaze skittered away from her intense glare, darting toward the opening of the alley. Foolishly hoping Viktor would be there and might convince her I wasn’t there for her.

He wasn’t, though. No one walked by or noticed a bartender yelling at a homeless person in the alley. One of the many reasons I gravitated to this side of town was that the alleys were quiet and usually empty for the most part. It made me feel just a little safer.

My eyes landed on a lump at the opening of the alley that I hadn’t noticed before. My brow furrowed, and I squinted, trying to see better what it was. It wasn’t a rat, it didn’t move around. What was it?

“Are you even listening to me?”

Swallowing hard, I dragged my attention off the lump and up to Tiffany’s scowling face. She glowered at me, none of that kind patience I’d come to expect in her expression.

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I can’t stop you from hanging out here, but it’s not safe, Rosie. You need to go to a shelter.”

I nodded to placate her. She left in a huff, the bags of trash untouched. If I didn’t move them, it could attract rats.

Pushing to my feet, I moved to grab them, but my attention snagged on the lump again. I tiptoed closer to the end of the alley, looking around warily, and scooped up the object. A wallet. Someone must’ve lost theirs. I flipped it open to look inside and nearly swallowed my tongue.

The amount of cash the owner carried was intense. All the bills were twenty or greater and the wallet was stuffed full. The devil on my shoulder said to take the money and abandon the wallet. That kind of cash would last months, maybe even giving me a chance to find some place to stay for a little while until I could figure out where to go next. I stared down at the money, my breath coming out shaky and tight. Eventually, though, I let out a slow breath and shook my head to dislodge the idea. I wasn’t that kind of person and whoever lost this would undoubtedly miss it. There was no ID inside, so I pulled out a credit card to find the name. Viktor Antonov.

He must have dropped it when he reached for his phone before. My heart sped up at the thought of speaking to him. I could just leave it. He’d probably come back for it eventually. But the amount of money in there meant that it would probably get stolen and that would be my fault for not gathering enough courage to approach him. I tucked it into my pocket, shifting away from the street so I could stay out of sight. I might be willing to hand someone their lost item, but I wasn’t looking to draw attention to myself. I still had my reasons to hide.

While I waited for Viktor to come back out of the club, I tried throwing away the garbage that Tiffany left. The bags were too heavy for me though, and I gave up after a few tries. I watched the street instead, standing when I noticed Viktor and his friends leaving the club. I shifted from foot to foot, swallowing hard against the nerves. Just as he closed the door behind the biggest one, I finally left the alley and reached for him, tugging gently on his sleeve. He turned around with a frown, studying me carefully.

When I offered it to him, his gaze dropped to his wallet in my hand, and his frown deepened. He took it from me and I immediately stepped back. I didn’t like being this out in the open if I could avoid it and the alley was calling my name. Spinning on my heel, I hurried away, heading back to my spot by the dumpster. I needed to move on. No doubt Tiffany would berate me some more if I didn’t, but that was the closest I’d gotten to a man in months, and I needed a moment to process.

“Wait.”

His calm voice surprised me, and I spun around with a squeak. He stood just inside the alley, his frown still in place. I was hesitant to approach him, so I stayed by the dumpster, partially hiding behind it.

“You did not touch the money.”

My brow furrowed. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. I shook my head slowly, dropping my gaze when he stepped up to me. His knuckle under my chin forced me to look up at him, though fear kept me rooted to the spot.

“Who are you?”

I shook my head again. I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t want him or anyone else figuring out who I was. It could get back to the wrong person.

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